An Inconceivable Secret
by perfectgirl-isgone
Summary: Ten years after giving away her illegitimate son, Emma Swan feels unexpectedly ready to be a mother. Little does she know she'll soon meet her chosen sperm donor and quite possibly fall in love with him. Of course, why bother telling him she's pregnant with his child? That would complicate things, surely…
1. Prologue & Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

_This is it. I'm actually going through with this._

Emma Swan took a deep breath, exhaled and opened the door to the fertility clinic. She was greeted by an overly friendly receptionist (geez, _someone_ took their happy pill this morning), who gave her a form to fill out. Name, address… family medical history? Emma chuckled bitterly to herself and shook her head. Like _she_ would know.

The procedure was fairly quick. Sperm goes in, now we wait.

Sitting in her yellow bug in the clinic parking lot, Emma looked back on how her past brought her to this strange moment, one she never would have predicted not long ago…

She never thought she liked kids.

Growing up in the foster system, she was constantly surrounded by kids of all ages. They were smelly, ill-behaved and, quite simply, a nuisance. She avoided them, for the most part. Ever since her foster family returned her to the home once they had their own child, she just didn't think she was worth anything to anyone, and so she didn't bother trying to form close relationships with her peers.

Of course, that all changed when she met Neal Cassidy, a young man who was running away from a bad home situation. In Neal she found someone she connected with, someone with a past similar to hers: they were both without a real home or a family. And Emma Swan was in love, falling quickly and hard and it was everything she could have dreamed of.

When Neal proposed, Emma was overjoyed — finally, a promise for the family she never truly had.

What she did not expect — and who would have? — was that Neal would disappear without a trace just days after the proposal.

Not only was she devastated and determined to never trust anyone ever again, Emma was also a few weeks pregnant. Neal never knew.

Emma battled with herself, trying to decide whether to keep this child. Ultimately, it was the fact that she was young, jobless and without a real home that brought her to realize that a life with an adopted family would allow him a much better chance than a life with her.

And so, once the baby boy was born, Emma shook her head when they tried to pass her her son. Just glancing at his eyes, pure and innocent, brought a stab of pain into Emma's core — in the boy she first saw her Neal, who had once made her feel priceless and then betrayed her as if she was worth nothing. She then saw a boy who had a life of hope ahead of him, which brought her a sliver of peace in this moment of agony.

Throughout the following years, Emma would once in a while think about the son that she gave away. Any doubts that she had would fade once she remembered her circumstances at the time… and of course that she didn't like kids, anyway.

Not long after her little boy was born and promptly taken away, Emma decided she needed to improve her situation. She did waitressing jobs here and there, moved into an apartment, and eventually got herself into nursing school.

Despite having built a life for herself, Emma was still alone. Not that she minded, no. Other people weren't to be trusted, and she was truly convinced that the solo life was the life for her. But this conviction, while etched into her everyday being for many years, slowly subsided.

A decade after giving away her son, Emma started feeling as though something was missing in her life. This was an odd feeling to her. Until then, she had felt satisfied with her career as a nurse; she had quite a bit of success with it and it took up much of her time. But something just _wasn't_ _right_.

Late at night she'd find herself thinking of the child she had turned away many years ago, wondering if he was all right, or even happy. After some time, a peculiar idea popped into Emma's mind: to have _another_ baby, one that she would keep this time.

To her surprise, this idea didn't bother her. In fact, as it brewed, the idea made her feel happier than she had been in a long time. Maybe she wouldn't mind having a kid after all. She certainly had the means and the maturity to support him or her. And, best of all, this baby would be her companion — a rather more reliable one than any friend or lover would be; the piece in her soul she didn't know was missing.

After much contemplation, it was decided. And the best part was, she didn't need a man to have a baby — at least, she didn't need a _relationship_ with him. She didn't even need to meet him! Her coworker had once mentioned that his sister had gotten artificial insemination from an anonymous sperm donor, which sounded simple enough to Emma. Ideal, even.

And she'd found the perfect donor, too…

Emma's thoughts were interrupted by a rapping sound coming from her half-open window.

"Ma'am, your parking ticket's expired. You need to buy another one or leave the lot."

"Oh, sorry, leaving now," she smiled.

On the drive back to her apartment, Emma daydreamed about her new baby. She was going to love the _hell_ out of that kid.

She pictured herself and the little boy — or girl — taking over the world, just the two of them. A dynamic duo. Perhaps, dare she think it, a happily ever after?

**CHAPTER 1**

Six weeks after her pregnancy test turned up positive, Emma woke up one Saturday morning craving hot cocoa.

While most mornings Emma would feel too nauseous to eat or drink anything, this morning seemed strangely different.

As she sat on the edge of her bed and faced the full-length mirror leaning against her bedroom wall, she pulled up her top to examine her belly. If she turned her head to the side and squinted a bit, she thought she could make out a teeny tiny baby bump. Well, it was either a baby bump or the unfortunate result of binge-eating doughnuts (probably the latter, but she wouldn't want to admit it).

Emma pulled on a sweater, not bothering to change out of her incredibly comfortable "jogging" pants that she basically wore all the time now. She honestly didn't mind what anyone else would think of her sloppy attire; it's not like she was trying to impress anyone or anything. It's the_diner_, for goodness' sake.

Upon entering Granny's, her favourite spot for a quiet drink (before her pregnancy, this would include both the occasional inebriant as well as her favourite hot cocoa - _always_ with a dash of cinnamon), she made her order at the counter and found an empty booth to slide into, sitting on the side facing the entryway.

Besides her Bug, the diner was another place where Emma could easily get lost in her thoughts. Nowadays her daydreams were focused on her and her child's future - there was so much to prepare for, so many choices to make. She knew she had (approximately) nine months to figure it all out, but you could never be too prepared. Emma did _not_ want any big surprises, that was for sure.

A figure entering the bar jarred Emma back to the present. There was something about him that looked familiar, _so_ familiar, but she really couldn't put her finger on it. When he turned to order at the counter, Emma ran through her memories trying to figure out _who was this guy._

But then he turned to face her, his eyes blue and bright and piercing into hers, and she knew exactly who he was: #3784.

Or, to be more precise, the father of her unborn child.

Emma knew she had found _the_ _one_ when donor #3784's profile popped up on her screen. She was first taken aback by how handsome he looked in his picture- _No one's eyes can be that blue_, she thought to herself.

In all honesty, unbelievable good looks were not Emma's top priority. No, she wanted a donor who was intelligent, well-educated, healthy and kind. But she couldn't deny that #3784's charismatic smile sent a shiver down her spine.

She also had to admit her attraction to the rest of his profile. Born and raised in the UK but relocated to America six years ago, #3784 had a Marine Engineering degree at Plymouth, no serious medical concerns, and he seemed, well, pretty dang _charming_ in his written interview. He even fit some criteria that she didn't even realize she had wanted; for example, he was musically gifted (a pianist and singer).

So _sure_, she'd have his baby. _Why not. Let's go for it._

Little did she know she'd one day be face-to-face with those _same_ blue eyes and that _same_ charismatic smile.

She looked away quickly, not wanting him to think that she was staring. He didn't appear to notice; a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other, he went to grab a seat in opposite corner of the small diner.

Feeling comforted that he had decided not to assume anything of her ogling, she decided to go back to planning for the baby.

However, as hard as she tried, she could no longer focus on maternity leaves and nursery colours. Her gaze kept being drawn back to the man with the dark brown hair and gorgeous eyes, reading the paper, seemingly oblivious to her gaping.

It was purely out of interest in her future child, she insisted to herself. She'd peer over and study the way his jaw moved when he took a sip of coffee, the way he'd lick his bottom lip and furrow his brow when he seemed to be thinking deeply about what he was reading. Different from his donor profile picture, where he was clean-shaven, he had grown a short, scruffy beard.

After a while she decided that since she couldn't stop watching him, she should _probably_ leave before he notices.

However, she was only steps outside of Granny's when she heard a door open behind her.

"Miss! I do apologize if my exceptional handsomeness distracted you from your thoughts."

_What the hell?_ But then she turned to see... him, grinning at her. _Oh_ _shit_.

"Excuse me?"

"I couldn't help but notice you were-"

"Oh, yeah, I just thought I knew you from somewhere, never mind," she asserted before he could finish, turning away.

"Ah, that's quite all right. Not a worry."

_Phew._ Emma was more than relieved to have survived this extraordinarily bizarre encounter with the man who just happened to be her baby's father. She continued to walk in the direction of her apartment, figuring he had probably gone back inside once his curiosity was satisfied.

But he had not.

"Pardon me, again, miss, I just realized I needed to send a letter to my friend. Would you happen to know where the post office is?"

A familiar feeling of panic began to creep in under Emma's skin. Her thoughts battled in effort to reconcile that _Yes, this is my baby's father_and _Jesus he is a complete stranger asking for directions_.

_I should probably just give him the directions and then lie about having left something at the diner, go back in and wait, and THEN walk home. And promptly forget that this entire thing happened._

She blinked a few times and responded, "Um, yeah, I do. I'm actually going in that direction, I'll walk you there."

_What the hell am I doing?! I thought I was going to go back to Granny's! _

But she couldn't bring herself to. There was that _something_ about him, the _something_ that she had seen in his profile that was even more potent in person. Emma felt like she could trust him, and this feeling terrified her.

"Fantastic, thanks."

Her heart pounding with apprehension, she added coolly, "But I'm only letting you walk with me because my apartment is just past there, so don't get any ideas that I think you're 'exceptionally handsome' or anything."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good."

They started walking side by side; Emma kept her arms crossed and avoided his gaze in an attempt to ward off small talk as she tried to calm her nerves. She should have known it'd be futile.

"Well, seeing as you _don't_ know me from anywhere, I suppose I'll introduce myself. Killian Jones." He stopped walking and extended his hand.

She grabbed it and shook, feeling a squirm in her stomach when his eyes met hers. This twist in her abdomen reminded her of a certain fact that made her heart race even faster.

"Emma Swan." Promptly she released her grip, placed her hand on her stomach - then quickly to her hip - and looked down.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan. Especially since you're helping me out, and most certainly do not think I am exceptionally handsome."

Emma shook her head, forced a smile, and carried on walking. Killian kept up with her slightly hastened pace.

"So, Miss Swan, how long have you lived in Boston?"

Realizing her arms were uncrossed, she folded them once more. "For as long as I can remember," she replied.

"Do you like it here?"

Puzzled, Emma scrunched her face - she'd never really thought about it before.

"I suppose... I mean, it's home, I guess."

"You don't seem all that confident," he joked.

"Honestly, I _have_ wanted to get away from here in the past. I guess I've just been too afraid to leave what's familiar, leave the vague sense of home."

_Wait a sec. Did I just confide in him? Am I forgetting that despite carrying his child I have known him for about five minutes? I swear to God if he's a psycho stalker..._

"I know how you feel," he murmured.

For the first time since shaking his hand, Emma looked at him.

"Really? I was sure you'd think I'm crazy."

He met her gaze warmly. "No, I don't think you're crazy. In fact, I was once in a similar situation myself."

They walked in silence for another few paces before he spoke again.

"When my Milah died, deep down I knew I needed a change of scenery. Staying where we had spent many years together did no good for me. But I resisted any thoughts of leaving, because even though staying had caused me great pain, it was familiar there; it was still my home."

"Yeah, I get that," Emma said softly, pulling a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Despite the insanity of the situation, she felt oddly at ease with Killian. She had confided in him, and he had returned the gesture. It was as if they had known each other forever.

_This has to be too good to be true._

Fortunately, before the anxiety could set in, they approached the post office.

Stopping and turning to face him, she announced, "Well, here it is."

He smiled. "Thank you, m'lady."

Emma waited for him to turn into the entryway, but he remained standing there, smiling at her.

"What?" she asked after a moment.

"Miss Swan, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Emma was caught off guard. "Oh! Uh..."

_That would be the most ridiculous idea ever, having dinner with the man who is the father of my child... but, well, he wouldn't have to know, would he?_

_But can I really afford to trust him? _

"I'm apologize for my forwardness, m'lady. I just sense-"

"Yes, sure," she interrupted quickly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Yes, I will have dinner with you," she said, astonished to hear the words coming out of her mouth.

Killian grinned. "Great. Granny's at 7?"

"Uh, yeah, okay."

"Perfect."

As he turned to enter the post office, Emma's mind was racing with a single thought: _What on earth have I done?_


	2. Chapter 2

Shutting her apartment door behind her and leaning against it, Emma felt her heart pound heavily. She wiped her brow as she tried to slow her shaky, shallow breathing.

_It's just dinner. It's not serious._

But she knew it was more complicated than a shared meal between virtual strangers. He was the man she had picked to _father her child_. And, as far as she was aware, he had no idea.

What would happen if she told him? Would it freak him out? Would he run?

Would she care if he did?

And suddenly she felt as though a tight band was wrapped around her chest. Gasping for air, she pulled off her sweater and threw it on the ground before walking to the bathroom sink.

Splashing cold water on her face, her nerves calmed just enough for her to think coherently. Staring at herself in the mirror, her eyes wide and filled with panic, she knew what she needed to do: just cancel it.

Which was a promising idea… except it was quickly squashed by the fact that she didn't have his phone number. _Damn._

Alternatively, she could just _not go_. She certainly didn't owe him anything. But she couldn't bring herself to stand him up, seeing visions of running into him at Granny's and enduring the terrible awkwardness that would ensue.

It would be a short, cordial dinner, and that would be that. He was to remain uninformed, to walk away completely oblivious and perhaps remain a friendly acquaintance.

Emma decided she could do that.

As she got ready for her dinner with Killian (not a "date" — she decided she would inform him of this early on so he didn't get any big ideas), Emma appreciated that Granny's called for more casual attire than a fancy restaurant or bar.

And so, rather than slipping on an uncomfortably tight dress and heels, she donned a dark blue blouse, black jeans (which were on the verge of being too small and made her realize wistfully that she may need an entire new wardrobe soon) and her favourite combat boots.

She had managed to soothe her anxiety regarding the outing to a reasonable extent, viewing it as an unexpected but welcome opportunity to get to know his background a little better — even though it was too late to back out, she'd rather be more informed than not.

Emma didn't immediately spot him as she entered the diner. She half-hoped _he'd_ stood her up; but, of course, he was there, settled in on the other side of the booth she had sat in this morning. She recognized his short, dark hair from behind.

As she approached him, he turned around, his face lighting up upon catching sight of her.

Her heart skipped a beat when Killian's eyes met hers; she mentally scolded herself for it. _No. This is not going to be like that._

"Miss Swan," he said, almost smirking — perhaps he'd thought she would show him up.

"Hi," she said with a small smile as she slid into the booth.

"You look quite lovely tonight, m'lady."

_Quite the charmer_, she mocked silently, wanting to roll her eyes but knowing that would be rude. She scanned his outfit, a pinstripe button-down shirt under a dark grey waistcoat, and thought fleetingly that he didn't look too bad himself.

"Yeah, thanks," she said quickly, then took a deep breath and stated, "I just wanted to make it clear with you that I'm _not_ interested in dating, so… this isn't a date."

He nodded. "Not a date. Got it."

"Good."

The waitress, whom Emma recognized from her multiple solo trips to the diner (she was difficult to forget, considering her often bold choices of attire and the bright red streaks in her dark hair), then came to their table and flashed a smile.

"Hey guys, my name's Ruby and I'll be serving you tonight. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked as she handed them each a menu.

Before Killian could request a bottle of wine from the list he was reviewing, Emma chimed in, "I'll have a coke."

He looked up, mildly startled, then quickly composed himself and added, "I'll have the same."

"Awesome, I'll be right back," Ruby said enthusiastically before turning to head back to the kitchen.

Killian scratched behind his ear (_why_ did she find that so annoyingly endearing?) and began, "So, Miss Swan, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a nurse."

"Do you find that to be an interesting job?"

"I actually like it a lot. I suppose I'm good at taking care of people." Which was why she knew she'd be a good mother, she mentally added.

After a quiet moment, during which the pair studied their menus, Killian mused, "I bet you make a great nurse. I need to catch myself an illness and get an appointment."

"I'm a _hospital_ nurse," Emma pointed out.

"Very well, then. Should I ever find myself hospitalized, I'll request you," he winked.

"I don't know if you'll get me, though," she quipped, "I'm in pretty high demand."

Keeping true to her word, Ruby returned soon with the drinks and collected their meal orders.

As they waited for their food, Emma asked Killian about his own job and how he decided to move to Boston, finding herself surprised at the number of tidbits that he shared that _hadn't_ been on his sperm donor profile.

"You were _fired_?" Emma scoffed, suddenly worried that her child will have some sort of Bad Employee gene.

Killian chuckled, clearly amused by her disdain. "No, love, I wasn't fired, just _let_ _go_. I was in a bad place, you see, after Milah had died. My boss knew I needed time to grieve."

"So why didn't you just take the time and go back, what made you leave the country?"

"Time wasn't enough. I needed space, and lots of it."

Emma nodded, admittedly feeling a small sense of admiration for Killian — _he_ had taken the courage to leave his home to find a better place. While she knew she had given herself a reasonably fresh start by getting a job, an apartment and now starting a family, she still felt haunted by the past that had once taken place in this very city. Every so often she'd consider moving somewhere new to raise her child, but while the past weighed on her here, it also made her irrationally afraid to leave.

And then she noticed he had been smiling at her while her thoughts were wandering. Even more alarming was that she, too, smiled for a second when her eyes met his. It was a perfect moment, and the instant she realized as such she quickly straightened her face, looked down, and wished he would forget that it had ever happened.

"So, any family in Boston?" Killian asked after a moment, still grinning.

Her muscles tightened. "Nope. No family at all, actually." _Barring the kid I'm having, but that's a tiny detail._

"That must be lonely."

"I don't mind it, honestly. Being alone has never bothered me."

"Really? Never?"

With seemingly perfect timing, their waitress then appeared with their entrées. Emma sincerely hoped he had let it go.

But once Ruby had had left, their food steaming in front of them…

"I can hardly believe that you _truly_ want to be alone," he murmured, smiling slyly.

_Bite me_, she wanted to yell in his face. While he was, in actuality, correct, she was _not_ about to cave in and tell him that. She'd have to explain the pregnancy thing and honestly she wasn't in the mood for complicating things. "Yes, I am happy living the solo life. Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

He leaned toward her and whispered, "I think that you have been hurt, and that is why you're afraid to trust people enough to let them close to you."

Her eyes widened. "_Excuse_ me? Who gave you the right…?"

Killian moved back, palms facing her. "I'm sorry, love. That was out of line," he apologized as Emma huffed and slid out of the booth.

"This was a mistake. I have to go."

"I said I was sorry…"

She didn't dare look into his eyes and see the remorse he felt, knowing it could have been well enough to make her rethink her decision to leave. It had been going so well up until that point, and of course he _had_ to go and ruin it. "Forget it. Bye."

Emma stormed out of Granny's, shaking her head. This was definitely the last not-date she'd ever go on.

Sighing and shivering as she walked quickly back home in the crisp evening weather, she realized she was going to have to find a new quiet place to hang out and think. _Dammit_.


	3. Chapter 3

If only she hadn't left her cell phone in the booth.

She realized it was missing the second she stepped into her apartment, but not only was she was too worn out from her brisk walk to get there, she also did not want to face Killian again after having only _just_ walked out on their dinner. Briefly she considered just buying a new one — her iPhone was a few generations old and had gotten frustratingly slow — but she feared she'd miss a call from work before she could inform them of her new number. And so, much to her dismay, she knew the responsible thing to do was to go back to the diner and retrieve her decrepit phone.

Of course, that would have to wait until morning, because Emma had crashed within seconds of lying in bed.

The next morning, after having settled her stomach (damn that morning sickness — even if it wasn't as bad as her first pregnancy, it was still a nuisance from time to time), Emma solidified her plans to make one last trip to Granny's to pick up her phone. She would be quick and inconspicuous.

_Especially_ quick, because she had a doctor's appointment to get to.

She put on the darkest sunglasses she could find and placed a wool hat over her head in attempt to mask her identity. It felt ridiculous, but the idea of Killian being there and recognizing her was too much of a risk to her sanity. Anticipating the need for a speedy getaway, she grabbed the keys to her Bug and went down to the parking lot behind her apartment to climb in.

Fortunately, when she peeked in through the front windows of the diner, she couldn't spot him. Breathing a sigh of relief, she walked in, removed the "disguise" and went straight to yesterday's table to find her phone.

It wasn't there.

_No no no. _Dread coursing through her, she frantically checked both sides of the booth and, when that provided no luck, crawled on her knees beneath the table to see if the phone had ended up on the floor. Still not finding it, she wondered whether it had been returned to the restaurant staff.

Eagerly lifting her head to get up, she bonked it on the edge of the table. "Ow," she grumbled.

And then she heard a familiar voice from behind her. "Alright, lass?"

_Dang it. Really?!_

Pulling (carefully, this time) out from under the table, she stood up and turned to glare at Killian, who was wearing his stupid grin and scratching his stupid ear.

_I must keep my cool. I must keep my cool._

"I'm fine. I left my phone here. Did you see it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I noticed it after you had left, and so I gave it to Ruby to give to you should you come looking for it," he nodded towards the bar where Ruby was pouring coffee.

"Oh. Well, I suppose I'll go get it from Ruby then."

"Very good, I was just coming to ask her if you had fetched it."

"And I will do that now. So that's all settled."

"Brilliant."

Could he stop smiling at her like an idiot? Like, honestly. He should be mad at her for fleeing mid-dinner. Despite her frustration, she had to stop the corners of her lips from twitching up.

"I don't have time for this," she mumbled as she walked straight past him to the bar. She reclaimed it from the enthusiastic waitress who was evidently pleased to see the pair back at her grandmother's diner.

Grinning as she glanced back and forth at Emma and Killian (who was still standing a few feet behind her), Ruby crooned, "I'm so glad you guys made up, you make such a cute couple."

"What? No, we're not, we haven't—" Emma stammered, her heart pounding.

"Miss Swan and I are not a couple, unfortunately," he explained, winking.

Turning to gaze at Killian, she tensed. Regardless of the twist in her gut she experienced whenever she looked at him, or how carefree she felt when they got lost in exchanging their stories last night at dinner, or how she knew he somehow understood her better than anyone ever had (even though she could hardly admit it to herself), she was terrified of what would happen should she trust him and let him into her life. He knew nothing of her pregnancy, nothing of the child that he had fathered.

Soberly, she said, "I don't think you could handle it," shaking her head and exiting the diner once again, not checking to see Killian's reaction.

Sliding into her Bug that was parked just out front, she felt a buzz in her pocket. _See, this is why I needed my phone back, it's probably work calling me in._

Answering without checking the ID, she put the phone to her ear. "Emma Swan."

"Miss Swan, if I could just—"

Choosing to ignore the dizziness she felt hearing his voice, she hissed, "How the hell did you get my number?"

"Used your phone to text myself. Clever, aren't I?"

"You are not one to give up, are you."

"If you want me to, will leave you alone from now on. I promise."

"Why is it that I don't believe you?"

"You should believe me. I consider myself a man of my word."

"Then why are you calling me?"

"In case you _don't_ want me to leave you alone."

It would have been easy enough for Emma to say "Yes, _go_ _away_." But, then, glancing out the passenger window, she saw him. He was standing inside Granny's, near the front window, looking out at her. Her eyes traced the hopefulness painted in his features, her pulse accelerating as she mulled over how to handle this delicate situation.

Telling Killian to leave her be would mean her life would go back to normal, to a state that she knew she could manage. She was comfortable being in control, knowing she couldn't be wounded the way she'd been in the past.

But that was _then_.

"Why didn't you come out of the diner after me? You probably would have caught me."

"Well, that was in case you do actually want me to leave you alone."

She closed her eyes and sighed, then pulled the phone from her ear.

Cursing under her breath, she wondered: Would it be possible to let Killian in but not give him the power to hurt her? At least, not as deeply. Granted, she now had thicker skin than ever.

Once again facing the diner, she caught his gaze and motioned for him to come over.

He approached the window that she had rolled down to the right of her, then crouched down to lean his forehead on the top of the car above the window, half smiling.

"So what is it then, Miss Swan?" he asked, his expression sanguine.

"I'm pregnant."

The reasoning behind her disclosure was twofold: First of all, if he found out and didn't run, perhaps she just might be able to trust him. A little bit.

And secondly, if he somehow became a recurring part in her life, he would figure out as much eventually.

To Emma's surprise, Killian snickered. (_Why the hell is he laughing?!)_ "I knew I was exceptionally handsome, but I didn't know I was _that_ exceptionally handsome."

She wanted to yell that he was being ridiculous in assuming the child was his, but the fact was that he wasn't wrong. _Oh God._

"You're an idiot. I chose to get pregnant from an anonymous sperm donor." _That is 100% the truth._

"I see. Interesting."

"Uh huh," she responded, her sarcasm loaded with frustration towards his casual response to the bomb she just dropped.

Killian quietly played with his fingers for a moment before asking, "Am I correct to assume that you calling me over here is for more than just telling me you are with child?"

She exhaled, looking into his eyes, searching for a hint of anything that would make her believe he didn't actually want to be with her because that would just make her life so much simpler. But she couldn't see a thing.

"Look. I'm not kidding when I say I'm having a kid. It may not look like it now but it sure as hell will soon. I'm just not in the kind of place right now where I can be in a relationship. Heck, when the baby comes, I'll probably be in _less_ of a place for one."

His smile showed his understanding, but his eyes his disappointment. "Miss Swan, I don't wish to trouble you. I will go on my merry way and leave you be."

She shook her head as he turned to leave. "No, wait. I mean," she sighed before continuing, her voice shaking, "You don't have to leave. It would be okay if, maybe… maybe, we were friends."

Emma's stomach squirmed as she took in his expression. _The smug bastard._ "Well, I think that would be brilliant, if we were friends."

Him leaving was inevitable. He would leave her, just as everyone who had ever been close to her had.

But at least, for now, she was at ease knowing that being_ just friends_ could spare her some of the suffering when he did.


	4. Chapter 4

"So you've forgiven me for last night, then?"

Killian's eyes smoldered at Emma as she considered how to respond. His comments at dinner had hit a tender nerve; no one had ever called her out on her reluctance to trust others before. She had always kept to herself, and it never seemed to bother anyone.

As to why it irked _him_, well, she had a guess. The guy couldn't stop smiling at her.

The best part was that his smile, so bright and genuine, could so easily make her forget the outlandish complication that he was unknowingly her baby's father, and how imprudent it was for her to hide such a fact from him.

"Well, you weren't entirely wrong," she shared, her lips twitching up slightly. "I may have… overreacted."

"You _may_ have—?" he asked incredulously.

"Don't push it. And I actually have to be somewhere," she added, to change the subject quickly. She had almost forgotten about that appointment, the first one since her visit to the fertility clinic. "So, um, see you 'round."

"I look forward to it."

Emma turned her key in the ignition, grimacing when the car didn't start.

She tried again, but her efforts were of no use: the damned thing had broken down.

"Really? _Really?_" She put her hands to her forehead in frustration.

Killian, who had remained standing near the car, chuckled at her irritation. "Would you like me to phone a tow truck for you, love?"

"No— I mean, I can call— I mean, I don't have time to _wait_ for a tow truck. I have a doctor's appointment in, like, ten minutes."

"I could give you a ride, then. Friends _do_ do favours for other friends, right?" he winked.

"Yeah, I guess, but—"

"No 'buts'. I'm going to give you a ride, so you're not late to see the doctor."

"Fine," she huffed as she opened the door to exit the car. Yes, she was grateful for his offer (her mind had been filled of worries late at night about the health of her baby, and she hoped to be relieved of those worries soon because — if not for her sake, for the kid's — she _really_needed sleep), but she didn't want her appreciation of his generosity to get to his head. He was already unreasonably gleeful after that friendship proposal.

"Okay. The tow truck is on its way to Granny's, I can walk to the service centre after my appointment to pick up the Bug."

Parked in front of the doctor's office, they sat in the car listening to the pitter-patter of the rain that had just begun.

"That's absurd," he gestured to the outside weather, "I will wait for your appointment to finish and drive you there."

_Would he, honestly? He'll probably get a call and have to leave anyway. Better to not be disappointed._

She shook her head. "It's not raining _that_ bad. And I'm sure you have places to be, too."

"I do have to stop somewhere this afternoon, yes. But that can wait. It's no problem, Emma."

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard him say her name for the first time, realizing that she had always been "Miss Swan" before.

"Okay," she breathed, her eyes fluttering, her pulse erratic. Why the hell is hearing her own name having such an effect on her?

It wasn't only that, she realized as he looked at her warmly. She had forgotten how good it felt to be put first by someone. With that, her hesitation had faltered, if only slightly.

"I have to go in now," she murmured after a moment.

"I'll come with you." To her bewildered expression, he responded, "What? I like the magazines these places have."

Emma approached the reception window, while Killian went up to peruse the magazines stacked on the table beside her.

"Emma Swan, here for an appointment with Dr. Whale."

A voice came from across the room. "You can come on in, Emma."

"Great." She turned to head to the open door where Dr. Whale was standing, then glanced back at Killian who was flipping through a business magazine.

He caught her gaze and nodded. "I'll be here."

The sincerity in his voice was nearly too much for Emma to bear.

Dr. Whale looked at Killian. "Oh, the baby's father is welcome to come in, too."

Emma felt the blood rush from her face. She hadn't lied to Killian yet, at least not explicitly. But, still dead set on never telling him the actual truth, she had no other option.

Fortunately, before she could say anything, she was reprieved by the man in question. "Nope, not the father. Just the ride."

Exhaling slowly, she continued walking across the reception area to her doctor's office.

_Well _that_ was a narrow escape._

"Everything all right with the wee one, then?" Killian asked as he and Emma walked out of the clinic.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Thank you, for waiting."

"Not at all," he responded, pressing a button to unlock his car. "I read a very interesting article about a cheese factory in Wisconsin…" He continued as the pair entered his car and drove off.

Interrupting his blathering about the magazine article was a ringtone Emma didn't recognize. Killian pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to her. "Could you just read me that email, Emma?" (Could he _stop_ saying her name? It was going to drive her insane, and she could _not_ afford to let her guard down.) "I'm waiting to hear from the friends I'm meeting today, and I don't want to get into a car crash and have my good looks ruined."

She scoffed, then felt her own phone buzz in her pocket. "Just a sec, I have to answer this."

"_Fine_, then," he said with teasing anger.

She rolled her eyes at Killian, then answered the call. "Emma Swan… So is it ready?… You're kidding me… Oh, I'm sorry to hear that… Yeah, I can pick it up tomorrow…Thanks." She hung up and pushed the phone back in her pants' pocket.

"Car still broken?" Killian guessed. During Emma's call he had pulled up the email and read it despite his accident-related worry.

She sighed, her eyes filled with frustration. "Yep. Apparently the guy working at the service centre — they only have one there on Sunday's, of _course_ — had a family emergency and doesn't have the time to fix the Bug today."

"_Really_? How convenient for him, probably just wants the time off."

"Probably. Although I consider myself to have a pretty good sense of when someone is lying, and I think he was telling the truth."

"Well, well, aren't _you_ the show-off." She grinned at his comment. "In any case, I'll be dropping you home now. Gotta run over now to my mate Robin's place. I'm helping him move to a new flat."

Emma nodded as he turned onto the street where the post office was located. "So, I know you live around here somewhere…?" he probed.

"Yeah, just around the corner here, second apartment building on the right."

After he pulled in front of her home and stopped the car, Emma turned to Killian. "Thank you. For the ride."

"It was my pleasure. That's what friends are for!" She watched his eyes sparkle as he laughed quietly.

"Well, I guess you'd better get going. Don't keep Robin waiting."

"I would go, but you're still in the car."

"Right. Bye."

As she exited Killian's car and walked up the stairs to the front door, feeling grateful that it was only spitting rain, she had to shake the thoughts that came rushing to her head. There was no sense to these thoughts, thoughts that said perhaps she felt more for Killian than she would a friend.

She chided herself for letting Killian and his charm and his unwavering kindness under her skin. It was plainly stupid — she was carrying his _child_.

But was it really _that_ stupid?

She did, after all, agree to be friends despite her secret. And that hadn't gone too poorly, save for the close call at the doctor's office.

Maybe, just _maybe_, could she manage more?

Feeling her muscles tighten and her pulse quicken in response to that thought, she knew exactly what the answer to that was: _Hell no._

That, however, didn't mean she couldn't stay _friends_ with him.

Yes, that would have to do.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma woke up the next morning to a text from Killian: _Still without a car, Miss Swan?_

"Of course I am," she replied out loud, annoyed (but only a little) at his question that begged an obvious answer.

Yes, she was still without a car — it wasn't going to be ready until the end of the day. What's worse was that she had to go to work that day (boy, was she ever looking forward to mat leave).

_Why didn't I rent an apartment within walking distance to the hospital?_ she asked herself furiously, trying to decide how to answer Killian's text.

Does she tell him she needs his help again, despite the fact that the idea of asking anyone for help makes her grind her teeth in irritation?

As she reminded herself that taxis, while expensive, are always an option, she opened the curtains to her bedroom window to let the sunlight in and saw a car parked in front that seemed awfully familiar, and an even more familiar figure standing in front of it, looking down at his shoes.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," she muttered, placing a hand on her belly in attempt to quell the butterflies.

_I see you, _she typed before rushing to prepare herself for work. _Down in a minute._

"I figured you could use another ride today," Killian winked at Emma as she approached him. He was dressed in a black suit and grey tie, which looked pretty damn good on him if Emma was being honest (and of course, this friendship was _not_ built on honesty, so she wouldn't say a word).

"I suppose I could, but _this_ was unnecessary," she frowned, adjusting her bag strap over her shoulder.

"No, actually, it _was_ necessary," he retorted as he moved to open the passenger door, but Emma beat him to it. "I couldn't leave you to take one of those bloody cabs, and I have a meeting this morning so I hoped you would be coincidentally ready to leave when I got here."

"Wow, selfish and selfless at the same time. How _do_ you do it?" she teased, allowing herself to grin a little.

"It's a gift, I think." Emma rolled her eyes at his response as she entered the car and shut the door in front of him.

After checking up on her last patient of the day, Emma walked out to the reception area to see Killian chatting with Marian, one of the secretaries.

Emma liked Marian ever since she met her several years ago. Marian was pregnant and needed a job, and, empathizing with her situation, Emma told her about the opening at the hospital.

While Marian was the closest thing Emma had to a friend at work, she never saw her outside of the 9-to-5 grind; in fact, she didn't really know much about her personal life at all, aside from having been shown a few pictures of her son, who was now seven years old.

Spotting her, Killian grinned. "Ah, there she is."

"I told you to wait by the car," she said, attempting a stony expression but having a hard time not being pleased by his presence. This time she was pretty sure he wouldn't leave her hanging, but you never know with people.

However, she realized, with Killian, knowing was actually easier than she'd expected.

"Nah, I wanted to come see where you work."

"Killian was just telling me how he's been chauffeuring you around the past couple of days," Marian smirked.

"Only because my car is in repair. I won't be needing any more chauffeuring after tonight."

"It's a shame, though — she's been fun to drive around."

Marian looked at Emma, then at Killian, then back to her as if to ask _Is there anything going on between you two?_

Emma shook her head subtly at Marian, then turned to Killian. "Okay, I'm going to go get my stuff, you can head down and I'll meet you at the car."

"As you wish," he said, waving at Marian as he went down the hallway to the elevators.

Once he was out of sight, Marian raised her eyebrows at Emma.

She knew what her friend was thinking. "There is _nothing_ going on between us. We're just friends."

"_Sure_," Marian responded sardonically. And then she was serious. "Be careful, Emma. You might think that being friends is enough, but I'm telling you from experience that he won't be waiting forever, and he might have moved on before you realize just how good things were."

Emma looked down, biting her lip. Marian _did_ have a point.

"So that happened to you?" she inquired, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah. He was my best friend… with benefits. We were in love, but too foolish to admit it to ourselves. Then I had to move out of town to help my mother, who was sick, and we got out of touch. I didn't know it at the time but I was pregnant with his child… so I planned to find him and get together for real, and now I find out he's been living in Boston all this time, and I go find him… and he's _moved_ _in_ with someone… he has a new family now." Her voice broke at the end, tears forming in her eyes.

Emma sighed. "That sucks. But now you know he's moved on, so maybe you can finally move on too?"

"If only it were that easy," Marian smiled, wiping a tear.

"Oh, I've been through heartbreak. I _do_ know that it's hard. And I just… don't want it to happen again."

Marian sniffed, her eyes hopeful. "It doesn't have to, for you."

Emma shrugged, then went to the staff lounge to get her bag.

_Maybe it doesn't_, she thought to herself afterwards, pressing the button to the elevator. _But there are no guarantees._

When she emerged from the hospital, Killian was waiting for her behind his car in the parking lot.

"All right, time to go get my car. I called the repair guy on my way down and he said it was ready for me to pick up anytime this evening."

"Wonderful." Although he didn't seem wonderful, which was a bit unsettling to Emma.

"How did your meeting go today?" she asked, changing the topic.

"Quite well, actually. We have a new business partnership which will be very lucrative. But really, I enjoy any excuse to design boat parts."

"Sounds like you picked the right career then."

"I believe I did."

As he looked warmly into her eyes, as he always did, Emma thought about what Marian had said about losing someone after it's too late.

Marian didn't know she was pregnant with her best friend's child. Emma _knows_ she's pregnant with her friend-whom-she-met-two-days-ago's child. These were two _very_ different situations.

Killian interrupted her thoughts. "I saw a woman, in the hospital, who had just given birth to her baby. I heard her telling her family that the labor was excruciating, and they told her to rest up because she wasn't going to sleep at all for probably a year."

_What on earth was he saying this for? Did he think she didn't know this already? _Flustered, she shouted, "Are you telling me I made a _mistake_, getting pregnant?"

"No, no! Not at all." He inhaled, scratching behind his ear, "I wanted to say, love, that I think you're incredibly brave."

And suddenly she was overcome by an urge to move closer to him. Closer and closer she moved, and her thoughts were swirling violently but she ignored them. She ignored the fear because it would not leave, it was inevitable but she could at least brush it aside for a little while…

At last, tugging his tie, she pulled him in and pressed her lips to his. He placed his hand on the nape of her neck, and she kissed him, forcefully and passionately, for a brief moment of near-bliss.

But it was not long before the certain panic washed over her and it felt as though someone had removed her ability to breathe. She pushed him away and exhaled labouriously, unable to look him in the eyes. He eased from her, studying her pained expression.

"Are you alright, Emma?" he asked, his eyes worried.

"I don't think we can be friends anymore," she muttered, breathing heavily.

"I thought we seemed to be veering away from that, anyhow," he said, half-jokingly, unsure of how to handle Emma's sudden change of mood.

"I'm being serious."

He approached her, his expression turned somber. "All right. If that's what you wish. My offer from yesterday morning still holds true — if you want me to leave you alone, I will oblige. But if you want me to be your friend, or whatever it is I am to you, say the word and I am yours."

"But that's just it — you hardly know me, how can you make such lofty promises?"

"You hardly know _me_, how can you know that I'm not worth trusting?"

"I think it's better to assume people are untrustworthy rather than be disappointed."

"Not everyone is like the man who hurt you, Emma."

"It wasn't just a man! My _parents_ abandoned me and I had to grow up in the foster system. Then I was placed with a family, but they didn't want me either so they gave me back. And_then_ I met someone who made me feel loved and wanted like I'd _never_ been before, and then without a single warning, _he abandoned me too_."

"I can only imagine how painful that must have been."

"And that's not even the worst part!" she continued, shaking with anger, unable to even absorb Killian's reaction, "This isn't my first pregnancy! _I was pregnant when he left me!_"

As she spoke, Emma's world was spinning around her. Feeling a rush to her head, she rubbed her forehead and swayed a bit, Killian catching her before she could collapse.

"Come on love, you need to sit down for a bit." Rather than protesting, Emma nodded slightly and allowed him to lead her gently to the passenger seat of his car.

Killian soon entered the driver's side and sat beside her.

"So you have another child, then?" he inquired quietly after giving Emma a moment to collect herself.

She smiled meagerly. "Technically, yes. But — ironically enough — I gave him up for adoption. It wasn't that I didn't think I could love him, but my life was such a mess and I wanted him to have his best chance to be happy. I didn't think that could be with me."

"That was very honourable of you."

"I guess," she mumbled, flashes of the harrowing day she gave away her son appearing in her thoughts. Retrospectively, she wasn't sure if it was honourable or just plain selfish. "So, now you know how messed up I am. I am going to go take that cab now."

"Emma, love, nothing I said before has changed."

"Words! That's all it is!"

"It's not just words!"

"Well then what is it then?"

She regretted asking that to Killian immediately after having done so, dreading to hear his response. But his expression, filled with tenderness and concern, said it all.

"Emma," he spoke softly, "I want to prove to you that some people are worth trusting."

Sure, he'd been nothing but trustworthy over the past few days. Trustworthy and understanding and caring.

And that would be enough for them to be friends. However, despite being decidedly just friends, there was an inescapable magnetism between them that simply couldn't be ignored.

There was the way she felt around him, when she heard him say her name, when he looked into her eyes, when they kissed.

But if she were to trust him, to let him in, there would always be the lingering fact that she was carrying his child. And she _just_ _couldn't_ tell him that. She couldn't bear him finding out, because there was simply no way to know how he would react… It's just not the kind of thing a person ever expects to hear.

So there would be no change regarding her decision to keep the secret. She'll just forget about it, and he won't ever know.

"Okay," she finally whispered. But she wasn't sure if Killian had heard her as his worried stare was now fixated on a figure approaching them.

"_Robin_?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Robin?" Killian called out again as Emma shifted to see a man with messy golden blond hair walking through the hospital parking lot in their general direction. "Is everything okay?"

"Hey mate, wasn't expecting to see you here," the man said distractedly, his eyes darting around as though he was searching for something, or someone. "I need to find-"

"Robin?" Emma heard a familiar voice coming from behind her. Turning her head she saw Marian, standing wide-eyed and frozen just past the revolving door entrance.

The man, who had stopped in his tracks, spoke with fervor. "Oh, Marian."

Emma couldn't help but feel that she was intruding on a personal moment between her coworker and Killian's friend. Was _this_ the guy Marian was telling her about just moments before?

"I think we should get going, to pick up my car,"Emma said to Killian, who had been watching Robin run to Marian and then embrace her firmly.

"Hm, yes. I suppose I can catch up with him later," he mused as he went to open the car door, all the while still observing the couple with concern.

Emma was admittedly curious as well. As she and Killian pulled out of the parking lot in his car, she peered out the window to watch them hugging and talking and she quickly recognized two lovers that had been separated for far too long.

The memory of Marian telling her that Robin had moved in with another woman suddenly appeared in her thoughts, and Emma wondered how much that would complicate this happy reunion. But she tried not to linger on the idea for long- she just hoped things would work out for Marian.

_No one deserves a broken heart._

* * *

The reunion of Marian and Robin seemed to have distracted Killian from the discussion he and Emma had been having just before. Emma glanced at him occasionally as they drove silently to the mechanic, but his gaze was focused on the road ahead of them.

After a while, Emma asked, "That was your friend, right? The friend you helped move to his apartment yesterday?"

"Aye, that was Robin."

"I know her... Marian, she works at the hospital."

"Ah, I see."

Emma frowned at his uncharacteristic lack of chattiness. "Is something wrong?"

Killian scrunched his face as he thought of how to respond. "I don't know, we'll see."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on."

"I know, love. I will. You have my word. Just later, after I talk to Robin."

"Fine," she replied, her frustration with Killian made obvious by her tone.

A few minutes later, after parking the car at the service centre, Killian turned his head to Emma. "Before we were rudely interrupted, you had said, 'Okay'. What do you mean by that, exactly?" he tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raised.

She looked down, feeling warmth creeping in her cheeks. "Well, I guess I'm open to you... proving yourself trustworthy. To me."

She then crossed her arm over her stomach, feeling the instinct to protect the child she was carrying from the unknown repercussions of what she had just agreed to.

Killian's face brightened, the tension from earlier completely eased. "I promise you won't regret it."

Part of Emma was saying that he's just making another meaningless promise, just like Neal, and that letting him in was a mistake. But another part of her was saying that perhaps this voice was holding her back from exploring something that could be worthwhile.

"I'd better not," she smiled.

After Emma went inside to retrieve her keys, she returned to his car to say goodbye.

The window rolled down, Killian grinned and she couldn't help but feel a little buzz within - it was almost a sense of relief, that maybe he didn't have to leave her life, that maybe she could handle getting to know him better, that maybe they didn't need to be defined within the safety of the limits of friendship.

It was scary as hell. But also incredibly exciting.

"So, when can I see you again, Miss Swan?"

Normally, on the rare occasions that she'd go on a date over the past ten years, she'd simply respond by saying she'd give the guy a call sometime (and then incidentally 'forget' to do so). This time, her gut was saying that she should take a different approach. "I'm free Friday night."

"All right, then, m'lady. I will pick you up Friday evening for our..." He raised his eyebrows, hoping Emma would finish the sentence.

She obliged, shaking her head at his silliness. "Date. Okay? It's a _date_, this time."

Killian chuckled, evidently pleased.

"Bye, Killian."

"Goodbye, Emma."

* * *

The thrill of having agreed to go out with Killian rushed through Emma's veins throughout the days leading into their date. During her days at work she'd find him appearing in her thoughts; she'd imagine his brilliant, wide grin and vivid blue eyes and feel a shiver down her spine.

With the thrill came the fear, the fear that she was making a mistake, the fear that she couldn't trust him even though, deep inside her, she knew she could. There was still that _something_ she sensed in him when they first met, the _something_ she couldn't put a finger on.

However, because she couldn't place this feeling she had, she worried it was all just an illusion, and she might suddenly wake from this strange dream shaking and screaming, just like she had done in the foster home all those years ago whenever she'd had a bad nightmare.

And so there were a few times that she'd pick up her cell phone, find his number in her contacts and consider pressing the 'call' button. She'd think of calling and saying that maybe she wouldn't go out with him after all, maybe he should leave her be, just like he said he would if she requested as such.

One time, in a particularly flustered moment, she actually did call him.

"Killian Jones."

"Hey, Killian, it's Emma," she said, her voice tight.

"Miss Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he responded, and she could practically _hear_ his smile.

"Um, about Friday-" she began.

"Oh, yes!" he interjected, "I meant to call you about that." _To cancel?_ Emma wondered to herself. He continued, "I'll pick you up at seven, does that sound good?"

"That would be great," she found herself saying before she could prevent it.

"Perfect."

"...Yeah," she sighed.

"All right, Emma?"

"Yeah, no. I am great. See you Friday."

"See you Friday. Oh, and Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"I look forward to seeing you again."

In the moments after hanging up, Emma slowly realized that maybe she knew what that _something_ was, after all.

For their first real date, Killian drove Emma to a small jazz club a short drive from her apartment.

"One of my favourite hidden gems in Boston," he said, opening the door to the unassuming dinner location he had chosen. He had gestured her down a dark, narrow street that Emma had never before ventured; she'd been a bit worried he'd lead her to her untimely demise. But then again, this whole thing _was_ an exercise in trust.

The tiny venue had only a handful of tables on the lower floor, each lit by a single candle, that filled the space all the way to the back of the room, where there was a narrow stage lifted just a foot above the floor; the evening's act had not yet started, but a few musicians were setting up their instruments. There was also a bar along the wall to the left of the stage. The hostess offered to bring the pair upstairs where there would be more seating, but Killian insisted the best seats were those closest to the performers.

And so, he and Emma ate their dinner in the dim lighting, listening to the loud and lively musicians that filled every corner of the room with swinging jazz. Emma couldn't help but laugh as she watched Killian sway to the catchy beats and hum along with the soaring melodies. Not that dancing was her thing, but his enthusiasm for the music, which admittedly she quite enjoyed herself, was nearly enough to make her wish there was more space in this club for them to get up and dance.

As they clapped at the end of the act, watching the musicians take their bows, Emma felt a twinge of sadness that the performance was over. The music had made her feel temporarily free of her worries; she simply delighted in the sounds and the presence of her date, who would every so often turn his head to catch her gaze and smile as they watched the concert. It helped that the music was so loud that they didn't need to talk much, aside from during a few set breaks when the musicians would grab a beer and chat with the audience.

"Hey, Killian!" the spunky blonde bass player said as she approached their table during one of the breaks.

"Tink! Good to see you. Great show so far.""Yeah, it's been a while. Thank you!" Her wide smile at Killian made Emma feel a little unsettled.

"This is Emma," he said, gesturing to her. "Emma, this is my friend Tink, short for Tinker Bell."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Like the Peter Pan fairy?"

Tink laughed. "It's my stage name. My actual name is Audrey Greenwing, but nobody calls me that."

"Noted."

"Anyway, I'm heading to the bar, could I grab you guys some beers?" Tink had asked them both, but her gaze was set upon Killian.

Killian gave a knowing look to Emma, who answered gently, "I think we're good with our cokes, but thanks anyway."

"Okay, cool," Tink shrugged. "Hope you like the rest of the set!"

After Tink disappeared, having given another not-so-subtle glance at Killian, Emma leaned toward him and said, "Sorry. You don't have to stay sober just 'cause I do."

He chuckled quietly. "No worries, love. It's better for me anyhow; I want to be on my best behaviour, and alcohol tends to make me forget that."

She smiled. "I think one beer would be okay."

"Hm, perhaps," he winked. "Another time."

Emma couldn't help but think that he was just humoring her. And the way that Tink had been looking at him? No doubt there was once more between them than friendship. Of course she couldn't blame him for keeping secrets, and certainly hers was the biggest of them all.

"I had a great time, Killian," Emma said at the foot of the stairs leading up to her apartment building's entrance.

"I picked a good spot, then? A bit nicer than Granny's, although I have to say her lasagna is rather sublime."

Emma laughed. "Yeah, the music was great. Your friend, Tinker Bell-" she stifled a snort before continuing, "She seemed pretty nice."

"Is the lady Swan _jealous_?" he sneered, clearly hoping she was. But honestly, it hadn't bothered her at all, and she was more irritated than anything else that he'd tried to provoke her.

"Oh, _please_. I just sensed a vibe."

"Very well." He leaned back, defeated, for now. "We'll have to go back, I think. On a night where I'm playing."

Her memory of #3784's profile suddenly flashed in her mind. _Right, he's a pianist!_

"Oh yeah, I remember reading that-" she stopped herself before saying something she'd regret, instead finishing, "-on, um, the performers list, somewhere, at the restaurant."

Hoping that there was in fact such a list (Who knows?) and dreading his suspicion, Emma's heart beat faster and faster as she watched him raise his eyebrow.

But then he grinned, confusion erased from his features. "Yeah, I'm on next month. I mean, I don't intend to be hasty."

Emma turned her head to the side, smiling and inhaling deeply, prolonging his wait for her answer partly because she wasn't sure of it - not sure if she wanted to commit to something so concrete. Sure, she'd indulge him in this trust endeavor, but backing out wouldn't be as easy if she promised him this date a month from now.

So she simply placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"So is that a yes, then?"

"We'll see," she smiled.

* * *

Back in her apartment after waving Killian goodbye, Emma felt a rush of tingly excitement. _This thing is going pretty dang well so far,_ she told herself. She hadn't invited him inside, not because she didn't want to but because she liked feeling as though she could control the pace of this blossoming relationship. One that made her feel like maybe this wasn't going to be like those nightmares she had as a child because it felt so much more like a _good_ dream.

Fighting the urge to pour herself a glass of wine (would one glass really hurt?), she walked straight past her kitchen into her room and shut the door behind her.

Control. Yes, that was what kept her from falling into pieces, what kept the fear from eating her alive. She decided they would be friends, and now she decided they would be more than that. As long as she was in control, she could protect herself from getting hurt.

But she couldn't help but wish he was in there with her, feeling the taste of his lips lingering on hers, making the room spin around her. He would place his hand on her back, gripping her, pulling her towards the bed. And maybe she wouldn't stop him.

Tonight, he was gone. But there would be a next time.

And she would make sure of it.


	7. Chapter 7

"Morning, Marian," Emma said as she approached the front desk at work the next Monday morning. She had been itching to find out why Killian had acted so strange after seeing his friend and Marian embrace, and she hoped her coworker would indulge her curiosity.

After exchanging the usual "How was your weekend?" formalities, Emma cut right to the chase.

"So, I couldn't help but see you and Killian's friend the other day..."

Marian looked down and blushed, smiling. "Yeah, Robin."

"That was the guy, right? The one you had told me about?"

"That's the one. I knew he was coming to the hospital, after we'd talked on the phone... he had called me right after you left, totally out of the blue, said he needed to see me..." She drifted off and Emma assumed she was remembering the phone call that probably turned her life upside-down.

After a moment she asked, "So, are you back together, then?"

Marian sighed, and Emma suddenly felt like maybe she had asked too personal of a question. But her friend responded, "Yeah, I think so. I mean, not that we were ever really _together_ in the first place. But he said he wants to be a part of Roland's life, and mine..."

"That sounds pretty good," Emma said, "But are you sure you believe him?"

"Why wouldn't I? I trust him more than anyone."

"I mean, he just came out of nowhere and said he wants to be in your life after all these years apart?"

"Yes, Emma, it was a total surprise. But, this past week that I've been with Robin, I've been happier than ever. Roland can finally have a father figure. And I never, ever stopped loving him."

The way Marian had spoken, Emma got a strong sense that she really _was_ happy to be back with Robin.

And that was what she told Killian over the phone as she made dinner back at her apartment.

"Nothing seems wrong to me," Emma continued, cradling the phone to her hear as she stirred a pot of pasta. "She seems thrilled. And I know liars when I see them. So what were you so worried about?"

She grimaced when she heard Killian exhale heavily. "Well, there's more to the story than just Marian's perspective, love."

"I'm sure there is," Emma said, placing the phone on the counter and turning it on speakerphone.

She carried the pot to the sink and dumped the boiled pasta into a colander, listening as Killian went on. "Them being together might _look_ like a good thing, but I fear it's not. I know Robin, I have since we were young lads. And when Marian took off, it devastated him."

"She didn't have a _choice_," Emma argued, carrying the colander to the counter and pouring some of the pasta into a bowl. "She had to help her sick mother!"

"While that may be true, Robin was still left without his love. And, much like myself when I lost Milah, he didn't take to it very well."

"So what's your point? She's back now, why can't things go back to the way they were?"

"Well, in the meantime, Robin found a new love."

"Huh... Wait a second," Emma scrunched her face in confusion as bits and pieces of details she had learned about Robin popped into her head. "_Marian_ told me that her guy had moved in with someone else. And _you_ just helped Robin move to a new apartment. So is he now living with another woman?" She gasped and added, "Is he two-timing Marian?"

"No, no, no," Killian responded quickly, "He _was_ with another woman, Regina. Then Regina kicked him out."

"Wait, why?" Robin's story was so confusing, and she was so engrossed in it, that at this point Emma had entirely forgotten about her half-prepared dinner.

"Robin found out - I have no clue how, probably Facebook, for all I know - that Marian had relocated to Boston, and had a seven-year-old son. He must have put two and two together and figured out that the boy was his."

"So why did he get kicked out?"

"He told Regina that he was considering reconnecting with Marian and seeing whether he could be involved in his son's life. Honesty is good form, right? But Regina sensed that he might still have feelings for his old flame, and she pushed him hard enough that he admitted it right out loud to her."

"Yikes."

"Yes, it was an awful sight, from what he told me. It was then that she told him to leave. She didn't want to be with someone who, even in part, wants to be with someone else."

"Wow," was all Emma could utter in response.

"It isn't really that surprising, coming from Regina. I don't know her too well, but I do know that she can be a bit... intense."

"No kidding." Her stomach then grumbled, reminding her of the bowl of pasta that was eventually going to get cold. But she had a feeling that Killian wasn't finished. "I don't get it though, why does Robin and Marian being together make you so concerned?"

"Well, as I said, Robin was a mess after Marian left. He never thought that he'd get over her, that he'd move on. But he did. What he had with Regina was... idyllic. When I saw them together, I could tell that they were a perfect match."

"A better match than he and Marian?" She seemed to remember quite the chemistry when they reunited a week ago.

"Yes, if you can believe it. They've only known each other for a year, but it was one hell of a good year."

"Wow," she said again. There was nearly too much information to digest on an empty stomach. Finally she scooped some marinara sauce onto her pasta and grabbed a fork, then brought her bowl and phone to her kitchen table.

As she ate, Killian continued, "My point is that, and I do apologize for taking so long to get here, in my humble opinion, it's not worth it for Robin to lose what he has with Regina over the possibility of rekindling with Marian."

Emma understood. "And if it doesn't work out with Marian, Robin won't have Regina to go back to. But what about his son with Marian? Don't you think it's worth it, for their family to be together?"

Killian sighed. "It's a tough one, I'll admit. But I think if he were to perhaps reignite just the _friendship _with Marian, he could still be a part of his son's life."

"I suppose that's true. But he obviously still has feelings for Marian. And Regina's kicked him out. Maybe he and this Regina aren't as perfect together as you think?"

"Maybe you're right, love. Who knows. But there's also another thing."

"_Another_ thing? How on earth could this get more complicated?"

"There's another _person_, actually. One who is in the middle of all this drama with Regina and Robin, who might be more affected by it than Regina would like to admit."

"Who?"

"Regina's son. I think his name is Henry."


	8. Chapter 8

_Three Months Later._

"Ready to go, sleepyhead?"

Emma peeked into Killian's bedroom, spotting him rubbing his eyes before going back to rummaging through a drawer.

"I can't find a bloody match for this sock," he yawned.

Emma grinned, leaning against the doorway. "We're going to Granny's, Killian. They don't really care if your socks match there."

He frowned and grabbed one black and one grey sock, huffing in disappointment as he sat on the edge of his bed and slipped each sock on. "Remind me again why I agreed to an _early_ breakfast at the diner with you this morning?"

"Because I'm going to a maternity class right after, remember? And we always do Granny's on Saturdays."

Standing up, Killian stretched and yawned loudly. "Well, perhaps we go tomorrow? Make it a new tradition, for Sundays?"

She knew what he was trying to do, and shot him a look. "Nope. And besides, what would we eat instead? You never have any food, and I just ran out of eggs."

"Excuse _me_ for being too busy to go grocery shopping. What with the new client who is more demanding than I've ever seen - and trust me, I've encountered many a choosy client - I've wanted to spend the rest of my time doing more... _pleasurable_ activities than purchasing food." He smiled slyly, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmm, let me guess. I've been involved in those activities, haven't I?"

"Well aren't you a clever one," Killian winked, walking towards Emma,his hands outstretched. "And just ravishing, too."

She grabbed onto his hands, feeling his warmth in her palms, pulling him in as close as she could without her twenty-weeks-pregnant belly getting in the way. "Well you're not so bad, yourself," she murmured before she kissed him tenderly.

He groaned when she pulled away. "Please, love. Can't we go back to bed?"

"Absolutely not. This baby needs food," she let go of one of his hands and rubbed her belly. "Actually, we have to stop at my place, before the diner. I _may_ have forgotten a change of clothes."

"I happen to like what you're wearing," he said with a mischievous grin, gesturing to his light blue button-up shirt that she had thrown on (that, and nothing else) after waking up.

Emma snorted. "Nice try. But maybe I'll wear it again, later."

"Hmm, I like the sound of that," he smirked, leaning in to kiss her again.

After a few moments she pulled away from his embrace and walked toward his entryway where her (thankfully long) coat had been tossed over the back of a chair. Grabbing the coat and putting it on, she noticed a pile of mail on the floor.

"What's this we have here? Bills I hope you've been remembering to pay?" she teased, bending down to grab the stack.

"I've been paying my bills!"

Ignoring him - he was being far too sensitive this morning - she flipped through the envelopes and found one that piqued her interest. "Ooh, a personally addressed letter from _England_... who's Bart Roberts?" she asked, holding it out to him.

Killian furrowed his brow in confusion as he scanned the envelope, but then his eyes gave a look of recognition. "Ah, that's nothing. I'm pretty sure I know what it is, and it's nothing to worry about."

She wasn't sure she believed him. 'Nothing' never meant _nothing_ with Killian. "You know I'm going to make you tell me what it is at some point, right?"

"And what shall I expect in return for divulging the truth?" He tilted his head to the side, slowly licking his bottom lip.

She kept her face straight, but her tone light, the corners of her lips threatening to turn up. "I guess you'll have to wait and see."

* * *

"Ugh, these damn pants won't zip," Emma shouted from inside her room, this time Killian waiting for _her_ outside in her kitchen.

"Perhaps you could wear pants that don't require zipping?" he called back.

She sighed in frustration. "I know that I _could_, but it just sucks that I can't wear my favourite jeans anymore."

"Well, you will be in your non-preferred pants, and I will be in my non-matching socks. But together, we'll make it through."

Emma opened the door to her bedroom, having donned the more comfortable choice of sweatpants, and smiled at Killian. "You're an idiot."

He ignored her mock-insult, instead scanning her outfit. "You wore those pants when I first met you."

She looked down. Yes, he was right. Those were the pants.

Strange that he had remembered.

"We should really get going," she said after a moment.

He smiled and leaned in to peck her forehead. She knew there were words he kept on the tip of his tongue, words she just wasn't comfortable with, not yet. But she hoped he knew how lucky she felt to have him in her life.

Because really and truly, she couldn't have asked for more.

* * *

Later that afternoon, after having gone grocery shopping (Emma convinced Killian that it was time to have food at _his_ place), the pair found themselves intertwined on the couch at Emma's apartment, alternating from deep discussion about their pasts (he told her more about his complicated relationship with Milah) to casual chatter about their week (she told him about a hilarious patient she'd encountered, who flirted with her while delirious on pain medication).

"I hope you told him that you were taken," Killian quipped, poking her nose.

"Sorry, I needed him to co-operate so I agreed to marry him."

"Emma!"

"Just kidding, although he did ask me out quite a few times."

Before Killian could react, they turned their heads in response to a light knock on Emma's front door.

They shared a look. "Maybe that's your hopeful suitor now..."

When Emma rolled her eyes in response, he asked more seriously, "Are you expecting anyone, Miss Swan?"

Emma shook her head, then got up from the couch and walked slowly to the front door, hoping it wasn't some sort of salesperson. She hated salespeople.

Looking through the peephole, she didn't see anyone. "No one's there, maybe a package was delivered?" she suggested to Killian, who was now sitting upright on the couch.

She opened the door and, glancing ahead of her, she still didn't see a soul.

But then she looked down.

"Um, can I help you?" she asked the young boy, probably about ten or eleven years old, standing in front of her.

Instead of answering her, the boy seemed to study her for a moment. He then asked, "Are you Emma Swan?"

Emma glanced out of the corner of her eye at Killian, who appeared to be just as confused by the boy's appearance as she was. She looked back at the boy and replied, "Yeah, I am. Who are you?"

"Do you remember giving up a baby boy for adoption ten years ago?"

Emma's eyebrows creased as she wondered why on earth this strange boy was asking such a strange question. But then her eyes widened as she took in what he might be implying.

"Of course I remember," she answered, suddenly feeling short of breath.

"Well, that was me. I'm Henry." The boy smiled widely at her, but she could only manage a meager smile as the dizziness began to slowly take over.

_This is my son._

_What the hell is he doing here?_

"Can I come in?" His eyes were bright and hopeful, but she was speechless, her mouth gaping open and her heart pounding rapidly.

She felt Killian's hand press gently on her back, puzzled for a moment as she hadn't heard him stand up nor walk to her. It was only then that she realized that she was gripping the door frame to steady herself from shaking.

With his other hand he gestured to her sitting room. "Why don't you come inside and sit, lad."

Henry took his seat on the couch, while Emma and Killian sat across from him on armchairs. Her pulse slowing, but only slightly, Emma studied the boy's face, looking for traces of familiarity.

She was... _somewhat_ comforted to see that he looked a lot more like her than he did Neal. But that didn't replace the growing frustration inside her. Why was she so upset to see him?

Thankfully, Henry hadn't been paying attention to her scrutiny. His eyes had darted around her apartment, taking in the novel surroundings. But then he looked at her. What was he going to ask? What was she going to say? What _could_ she say?

"So, do you have any juice? I'm really thirsty."

Emma exhaled in relief. She didn't know why he was here, but thank goodness he wasn't starting with tough questions. She hoped he'd never get to them, but why else would he be here? "Uh, I think I have orange juice. Is OJ good?"

"OJ is great." He smiled again. She smiled back, this time slightly bigger. She was trying, she swore.

She got up to get the juice, telling Killian that yes, she was fine, no, he didn't have to get it for her.

As she poured it into a glass, she overheard Killian conversing with Henry. Her son. _Oh god._

"Have we met before, Henry?" Killian asked. Why would Killian know her son?

"Maybe," Henry answered. "Are you my dad?"

Emma nearly dropped the glass of juice as she carried it.

"No, lad, I am not your father."

Henry's eyes fell, "Oh." But he picked right back up when Emma handed him the juice. "Awesome, thanks!"

Sitting down once again in her armchair, she looked back and forth at Killian and her son. It was as though her world was crashing into her. Being with Killian made it so easy to forget the difficult past she had, to forget all the bad and painful decisions she had made. And as soon as she felt that she was finally moved on, finally almost _happy_, her past came knocking on her door. Literally.

And maybe that was exactly why she really didn't want to confront Henry. Or, rather, to be confronted _by_ Henry. She thought her past wouldn't follow her, but she was wrong.

What a stupid mistake to have made.

"So, Henry, is there anything I can help you with?" she asked carefully.

"Actually, there is. You see, I'm doing a science fair project, and I need to interview people who have had kids." Before Emma could interject with the obvious, he added, "Doesn't matter if you've raised 'em or not!"

Emma frowned. "I'm not sure I follow."

Henry smiled. "That's okay, I thought you'd be confused. I'm collecting data about moms who do different stuff when they're pregnant, to see if certain things make kids smarter."

"And you need to know all about-"

"What kind of stuff you did when you were pregnant with me, yeah. My teacher says I need a sample size of 30, and I needed one more. I would'a gone to my mom, but, well..."

"Yeah, I get it. How many questions are there?"

"Twenty-six."

She looked to Killian once again. He shrugged, but his look said he knew just how she was feeling.

It was her call, yes. Could a few - twenty-six - questions be so bad?

Do the interview, then say goodbye once more.

He wasn't expecting anything else out of this, was he?


	9. Chapter 9

Most of Henry's questions were easy for Emma to answer. Without much effort she could recall how often she listened to classical music (never) and approximately how many times a week she ate chocolate chip cookies (several). She didn't go to any rock concerts, and she ate a decent amount of vegetables. Simple, really.

But then some questions, for some reason, were harder. Not harder to remember, necessarily, but harder to answer to the son she gave away.

"Did you ever read stories out loud?" This was the last question. Henry had played the part of objective researcher well - quite well for a fifth grader - and had never referred to himself specifically during their interview. She was glad, but she knew that his awareness of the delicate situation was just below the surface.

Heaviness grew in her chest. She suddenly remembered the lively leader of her prenatal workshop earlier that day, who had given the class a 'homework' assignment.

_"__All of you ladies are at least sixteen weeks pregnant, yes?" Nods came from around the room._

_"__Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful. From sixteen weeks - did you know? - your baby can hear! Isn't it incredible?" The circle of women smiled, some looking downward and stroking their bellies._

_"__Oh! know what your homework should be for the next few weeks! I want you to read a story to your baby. Or sing a song! Your baby will get used to the melody of your voice and remember it when he or she is born! Is that not the most fascinating thing?"_

The leader's enthusiasm got a bit tiring, but Emma had reminded herself that she was taking these classes so that she could do everything _right_ this time. She wanted to put in all her effort to be a good mother.

Something she had not done with Henry.

That, exactly, was why it was hard to answer this question; no, she had not read any stories aloud when she was pregnant with him. Because, then, she didn't want to be pregnant at all. And that fact made her feel more guilty and resentful than ever.

_What did she do to deserve this, now?_

"I... did not," she finally answered, doing her best to keep a steadiness to her voice.

Henry scribbled down her final answer in his notebook, then closed it, avoiding Emma's gaze.

She wondered if he regretted finding her. Instinctively she felt as though, perhaps, there was another reason Henry was here, one that he was afraid to say. Part of her hoped that he'd keep it to himself. This was hard enough, thanks.

"That's all, then?"

"Yep. Thanks." He smiled at her, but she wasn't convinced.

"Then why do I have the feeling that there's more you came here for?"

Henry looked away. "I don't know what you mean."

"You could have found another person for your project. Why did you come to me?"

He shrugged, then when Emma gave him a knowing glare, he sighed, "I just needed to get away from home for a bit."

"Where is home?" Killian asked.

She turned her head abruptly to face Killian; she had forgotten he was there, he'd stayed so quiet during the interview.

"A twenty minute drive from here."

Noticing the absence of daylight outside through the window behind Henry, she moaned internally. She knew the right thing to do was to bring him home herself. "I have to take you back. It's dark out, your parents are probably worried sick."

"My mom probably won't even realize I'm gone," he muttered.

Yeah, there was definitely more to this than Henry was saying aloud. She wasn't sure if she wanted to probe him, if it was her business.

Scratch that. It's not her business.

Right?

"Regardless, you need to go home."

He sulked, then nodded. He watched her as she stood up from her chair and smiled at him. _Soon, this will be over._

"Come on, let's go," she gestured to her entryway, "I just need to grab my coat, wait right by the door."

Killian followed her to her room. "Do you want me to go with you, love?"

"No, it's fine, I think I need to do this alone," she whispered.

"I'll be here when you get back."

"It's okay, you can go home."

"Then text me when you get home?"

"Okay."

* * *

"Thanks again for helping me with my project," Henry said as they pulled onto the road outside her apartment.

"No problem, happy I could help."

Several moments of silence followed, and his sulkiness from before turned to a poker face expression. She couldn't tell from looking if he was all right. Despite that, she had a pretty good feeling he wasn't.

Eventually she spoke. "I know it's not my business, but is everything all right, at home?"

He stared blankly ahead for a minute, then looked at her. "It's been kinda rough, my mom... my mom's been going through a tough time. I don't know if she'll bounce back."

"How long has this 'tough time' been?"

"Three months," he grumbled.

"Yikes. I've been there, though. I _definitely_ know what a rough home life is like."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I grew up in the foster system. I never had parents, or anyone, really."

"My mom and I used to be really close."

"And now she's dealing with some things and suddenly she pulls away," she scoffed, "That's not exactly fair."

"Yeah, that's what I think. It just kinda feels… like she doesn't love me anymore."

A lump formed in her throat, and at the same time her fists clenched on the wheel. _He doesn't deserve this. I wanted him to have his best chance at a happy life, not this._

"Can you tell me what's going on with her?"

"She and her boyfriend broke up."

"A break up is no excuse to ignore your kid."

"She doesn't want to see me or spend time with me," he continued. "All she does is work. I'm tired of it. I don't know what to do."

_My god, this poor kid._

"Henry, look. I know things seem bad now. I've had more than my share of tough times, trust me, and I know how much they suck. What your mom is doing isn't cool. But you can't let her drag you down with her misery. Hang out with friends, play videogames. You're a kid, and kids can't be expected to take care of their parents."

Henry nodded.

"I am sorry though."

"It's not your fault," he replied.

"Well, only a little," she joked. Her tone was light, but in truth she believed it _was_ her fault.

It was entirely her fault.

She could have been his mother.

Maybe he would have been happier had she kept him.

She noticed her pulse had accelerated significantly, and she was now nearly death-gripping the steering wheel.

_Okay, hold it together._

_You didn't keep him. You're not his mom._

She took a deep breath, and decided she wouldn't inquire further. He isn't her son, she isn't responsible for his happiness.

But even still, the feeling as though she _was_ ebbed through her, continuing as she reached his house. The house was well-lit in the evening darkness of late fall, and she noticed the stately grandeur of the large, white home.

_So at least he's well-off_.

"Thanks again for the help, and also for the ride."

"No worries. Take care of yourself, kid."

She watched him leave her Bug and walk to the front door. There was no one greeting him as he entered; he seemed to slip in quietly.

Minutes passed and she knew she should leave, but the worry wouldn't subside and she couldn't bring herself to.

At some point, she saw Henry's front door creep open, and started the car upon instinct. But it was only Henry, who looked relieved to see her still there.

She rolled down the window. "I was just on my way, I was just checking some emails on my phone."

"Nah, I know you're worried about me, and that's why you stayed."

Speechless and struck by his insightfulness, she let him continue. "I came out to see if maybe we could meet for lunch tomorrow? And we can talk more, about stuff."

_Of course this isn't over._

"Yeah, sure, kid. How about Granny's Diner, do you know it?"

He grinned. "I love that place!"

"Great," she smiled. "I'll pick you up at noon."

* * *

All she wanted to do was make sure that her son was all right.

It was the most innocent of intentions, she assured herself as she stepped into her apartment later that night, after returning from taking Henry home. He clearly wasn't all right, and she wouldn't feel right if she didn't do _something_ about it.

Glancing into her living room she shook her head as she saw Killian sprawled out on her couch, fast asleep. _So he stayed._

She approached him, kneeling beside him to place a kiss on his forehead. "I told you, you didn't have to stay, I'm okay on my own," she murmured even though he probably wouldn't hear her.

But then he inhaled quickly, signalling that whatever noise she'd made had woken him up. _Oops._

"Emma? Did I fall asleep?" he asked groggily, his eyes still closed.

"Seems like it."

"Well it's all your fault, since you forced me to wake up early for breakfast."

Giving him a slight smack on his arm, he finally opened his eyes.

"Did you bring the lad back home?"

"I did."

"Did that go all right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

She'd tell him about her worries later, she told herself. But of course, he read her as if she was an open book.

"You're doing the right thing, Emma. He'll be fine, whatever's going on will come to pass." He closed his eyes again.

She sighed, and just watched him breathe for a little while. "Well, you're not the only one who's exhausted. I'm going to bed."

He smiled slyly, "Is that an invitation?"

"Shut up."

"Just checking," he yawned, then rolled over to his side. In moments he was snoring.

_I wonder if our baby will sleep as well as he does._

Seconds after the thought came to her mind, she realized what she had implied and gasped.

Yes, genetically, it was their baby.

But she'd always thought of this baby as hers and hers alone.

And yet, she was having this crazy, dangerous thought. If she gave in and truly accepted Killian as the baby's actual father, and that he might actually stick around and play that role... well, that would mean thinking too far ahead. She was attached to him, sure - while the past three months hadn't been smooth sailing, she wouldn't be the last to admit that things were going pretty well for them, overall - but she hadn't let the "family" ideal cloud her judgment. She didn't know if that was what he wanted, and even if he made his support known, who knew if that would change if he knew the truth?

Another concern appeared in her thoughts. Six months from now, when the baby was born, would Killian still be around? If they were to last as a couple, what kind of role would he play in her and her baby's lives?

Would _Henry_ be in that picture?

Now _that_ was a crazy thought. With that, Emma came to the conclusion that she must be delirious and that the best option for her right now was to just leave Killian lying there and go to her room and sleep.

She needed all of the sleep she could get.

Although, she realized, she slept a whole lot better with Killian there.

And perhaps that was dangerous, too.


End file.
